Tutorial Interlude: Set in Motion
Tale Swapper
(Unverified Madman)
- Location
- Lost Among a Sea of Imaginings and Dreams
This will be the last Interlude before we head back to Taylor's perspective and reach the end of the Tutorial Arc. Enjoy!
Trainwreck's workshop had changed dramatically since he'd first set it up. From the empty shell of an engine depot, the monster cape had filled it with half-assembled armors, homemade generators, and a nest of ratty pillows and blankets which he used as a sleeping spot, tucked into one of the many overhead eaves. More recently, Trainwreck — or perhaps one should say, Gregor had set up a bay of computer monitors and jury-rigged satellite uplinks, allowing him to access the internet, message his new friend, and monitor a large array of surveillance cameras yanked from abandoned housings all over the trainyard and reinstalled around his base.
Today, these cameras dutifully recorded Trainwreck as his scorched, half-melted armor staggered in through the huge doors which once allowed locomotives entry into the space. Rumbling ominously, the shaky armor lurched to a halt, then opened, allowing the near-protoplasmic Cape to slide free and pinwheel across the floor to take his seat, wincing as his burns chafed on the fake leather.
Gregor's eyes darted back and forth until he confirmed that he was safe… for now. Taking a deep breath, he jabbed one pseudopod into the controls for his chair, sending the heavily modified office chair rolling along smoothed surfaces. "A trap, I should have expected. Was it real, his offer?" He shook his head. "No, no. No speculating. Madness lies down that path."
It had been a good offer, too. Gregor had been approached by a group of armed men, several weeks past, asking if he might be interested in steady employment. Gregor had been interested, and had allowed the men to arrange a meeting with their superior. It hadn't been difficult to discern who the men were working for; there weren't many with Tinkertech rifles in such number. He'd not been surprised when the man he met with introduced himself as Coil.
At first, the deal seemed promising. Coil wanted Trainwreck to go on retainer, maybe hire himself out to another group and report back to him. Trainwreck would get money, access to some of Coil's resources, and a place in the man's organization, in return for spying.
Trainwreck had been interested but not invested, but then Coil offered another bargaining chip. He offered to use his contacts to try and find Trainwreck's past. Told him he had promising lines of information, that he might even be able to get Trainwreck's name.
"Pfeh. Already have my name, and a glimpse. Such power, such knowledge. Why would he need me?" Gregor muttered. "He was lying, or he had no real need of me. A pawn, not an ally."
Gregor's refusal of this last point had seemed to shock Coil. He'd seemed to agree with the refusal, and had walked out- only to let in men with rifles, to silence Trainwreck.
They weren't expecting vented steam. Weren't expecting that trick Heraldry had given him, the sweeping rush which had knocked them aside, moving through rather than into. He'd managed to get free, fight his way past the mercenaries. But in the process, his nicest suit was trashed.
Gregor scowled as he shoved his best gear into a knapsack. He had to go, had to leave. Coil's men had managed to neutralize one suit fast, and it was painfully obvious that the Snake wouldn't let him live for long. He was too distinct, he stood out too much… Where could he hide?
Unbidden, his memory flashed to the one time he'd followed Heraldry through the docks, to see her vanish between a pair of upright pillars. The old machine shop was empty, he'd checked. But the girl still vanished between one step and the next. A pocket dimension.
Gregor wheeled himself over to his terminal again, cursing softly as one of his cameras scanned over a discreet man carrying a high-tech pistol. "I will owe her much for this." He muttered, but… well. Better than the alternative.
Gregor's tentacle tapped one of only two numbers he had keyed into his phone. After a few rings, an unfamiliar voice answered. "Ah, Gregor?"
"Who is this? I must speak with Heraldry. At once." He found himself barking.
"Hang on, let me put her on." The voice… sounded similar to the girl's. A sister, maybe?
Seconds later, the familiar voice of his neighbor (friend?) came over the line. "Gregor, what's wrong?"
"Issue I am having. I made a mistake, rejected an offer from Coil." Gregor explained tersely, watching over the cameras as the man pulled out a cell phone. "Attempted to silence me, likely know the location of workshop. I will-"
"Stay there, Gregor. I'll be right over." Heraldry's voice seemed to change, deepening and warping into something not recognizably female. Or perhaps, not quite human. "Are you injured? How many are there?"
Gregor nodded, looking through his cameras. "Three teams, five men in each. They are flanking the warehouse as we speak. And I am… mostly fine."
"...right. Hold out as long as you can."
Gregor nodded, even as the line went dead. He whirled his rolling chair back across the floor, smiling softly as he came to a halt before his current prototype armor. Unlike his bulky, oversized armor suit, this one was built a little differently. Heraldry's advice had pushed him to rebuild this suit; he supposed it was time for a field test.
"Size matters… but more may not be better." He chuckled, slipping into the armor and letting the clamshell drop into place. As he began to work the armor through its paces, he grinned. "Let's see if they can deal with a smaller target."
As he snagged his custom steam rifle from the rack, the man inside the armor felt his smile grow. "A better suit, and backup on the way. Truly, having allies is a wondrous thing…"
Lisa Wilbourn, once known as Sarah Livsey, and occasionally known as Tattletale, groaned as she heard her phone ring. There was only one person she used the standard ringtone for, and considering her current headache, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to her boss. Reaching out with one hand, she grabbed hold of the cell phone beside her, flipping it open and bringing it to her ear while keeping the ice pack balanced on her forehead. "Hey boss, whassup?" She groaned out.
"Tattletale. I've recently suffered a setback." Coil's voice came out of the phone in its normal monotone, but Lisa's eyes shot open as the words registered. Angry, covering fear. Uncertain.
"Really? What happened?" Lisa sat up, snagging her laptop with one hand as she pressed the phone between her shoulder and head, the other groping for a rarely-touched bottle of tinker-made painkillers. Using these, no matter how addictive, might be worth it. "I didn't know you were running any ops today."
"It should have been a milk run." Coil's response was terse. "I was aiming to recruit a new agent, perhaps a teammate if Hellhound didn't work out. He responded well to my early overtures, only to reject my final offer." He paused as Tattletale upended a pill into her mouth and booted up her laptop. "I want to know why." Confused, angry at you yet not you. Hates being confused, hates information gaps, believed this a sure bet. Received assurances from other sources. Other sources included thinkers. Other source was you.
Lisa bit her lip as she considered her power's revelation. "I'm going to need more info than that." Lisa responded, quietly bringing up her speculation document. "Who was it, what was the offer?"
"Trainwreck." Monster Cape, slumming, new arrival in Trainyards. "I offered him money, a support network when his job was complete, and information about his past."
Lisa whistled at the last line. "Kinda cruel with that last one, boss. No one knows where Case 53's come from."
"...no, they don't. But he shouldn't have known the false documents I'd drawn up were false." Pause too long. Does know where Case 53's originate from, or has info therein. Would not share. Would not even pretend to look. Scared of source. Lisa gulped as those lines soaked in, even as an email popped up on screen. Coil continued. "Listen to the recordings. If there's a leak, it needs to be patched."
Lisa let her newest Coil facts percolate as she listened to the conversation between Coil (Body double) and Trainwreck. As she listened to Trainwreck's rejection, she flinched. Conflict between information he knew to be true and Coil's lie. "There wasn't a direct leak, boss. He already knew his name, and knew your 'leads' were fake."
Long pause, running through options. Very nervous. "Can you confirm that?"
"With a bit of work, maybe." Lisa replied. "Not sure where I'd start, though."
"Don't." Coil's response was clipped. "Focusing on managing the Undersiders for now. Let them know that if the opportunity comes to kill or capture Trainwreck in the next week, you should take it."
Lisa swallowed again. Trainwreck's knowledge is dangerous to long-term plans. Needs to dispose of him before he can share what Coil plans. Will dispose of you as soon as possible. "Brian might push back against that. Killing another cape would bring heat on us."
"Let all your teammates know that there's a 250 thousand dollar bounty on whomever makes the kill, so long as it happens before he runs his mouth." Knows Bitch won't hesitate for that amount of money. Knows it will give Brian and Alec second thoughts. Doesn't care about long-term team cohesion. "Also let them know I will be spreading this job to other parties."
"Understood." Lisa paused as a second directive showed up in her inbox. "What's this?"
"The one who helped bail Trainwreck out." Coil's response was clipped. "It could be a coincidence, he's been running around the Trainyards for some time. But I need you to monitor Heraldry closely. I want a preliminary dossier submitted in three days."
"Gotcha." Lisa ignored the abrupt end to the call, studying the picture before her closely. "So this is the guy who took down Shadow Stalker…" She murmured. "Hmm. Now, what are you hiding?"
For most of Brockton Bay, the Medhall Building was one of the few places in the city where people found some hope for the future. An old-money pharmaceutical company employing thousands of people, Medhall was a cornerstone of the city's economy. Its CEO was a regular participant in charity events across the city, a man with links to City Hall and European backers.
Max Anders himself saw himself as a businessman in both roles he played. He dealt drugs in both personas, dealt with problems in both personas, and serviced clients in both personas.
...and did paperwork for both personas.
Grumbling under his breath, Max hastily scrawled a messy Kaiser on the bottom of an E88 directive. "Finally." Looking up from his desk, he slammed one finger home on his intercom's button. "James, come on in. I know you have news."
A few minutes later, the stocky build of Max's right hand man entered the room. "Max, is there anything we need to lead with?"
Max shook his head. "Nothing except the take." He leaned forward, tapping a piece of tinkertech, nodding as it failed to sense any bugs. "Start with Shadow Stalker. What happened with her, and why shouldn't we be using her as a recruiting tool?"
Krieg shook his head. "Sophia Hess was backed by the school authorities, white or black, and she had white friends. Worse yet, none of our young guns in Winslow ever intervened to stop her actions, or even mark her for reprisals outside of school." He snorted. "In short? We can use her as dirt on the PRT, but we can't use her for more general recruiting purposes. The narrative breaks down too fast."
"That's not stopped us before."
"It has when the PRT admits they screwed up, then pours out a tide of scum as scapegoats." James rubbed his hands. "It's more of a failure of the school system than anything else. Winslow is a shithole, and someone was embezzling funds. Not exactly good propaganda when it was a white woman causing the mess."
"Right." Max shook his head. "Fine. PRT response?"
"Mostly unchanged. Apparently losing Stalker will reduce the Wards' presence for a while, but otherwise their patrol and rotation schedules are static."
"Other gangs?"
"The ABB hasn't made any major moves in the last few days, and that seems unlikely to change. Coil is still laying low, the Undersiders haven't made a hit in a few days, and Faultline's crew only recently returned to the Palanquin." He paused. "The Merchants are stirred up, though. Heraldry, the new cape, has been making big moves through their territory, and beat down a dozen of their competent leg-breakers the same night he captured Stalker. That, combined with Trainwreck's greater activity, has gotten Skidmark upset."
"What's he doing?"
"He's started demanding his men patrol, saying he wants to catch the people intruding on 'his' turf." James shrugged. "He'll lose interest in a few days. We just need to be careful; Squealer's joined in with her latest monstrosity."
"Anything else?" At James' head shake, Max inclined his head towards a nearby couch. "Sit down. We've got some more to go over, but we can take our time."
"Yessir."
Trainwreck's workshop had changed dramatically since he'd first set it up. From the empty shell of an engine depot, the monster cape had filled it with half-assembled armors, homemade generators, and a nest of ratty pillows and blankets which he used as a sleeping spot, tucked into one of the many overhead eaves. More recently, Trainwreck — or perhaps one should say, Gregor had set up a bay of computer monitors and jury-rigged satellite uplinks, allowing him to access the internet, message his new friend, and monitor a large array of surveillance cameras yanked from abandoned housings all over the trainyard and reinstalled around his base.
Today, these cameras dutifully recorded Trainwreck as his scorched, half-melted armor staggered in through the huge doors which once allowed locomotives entry into the space. Rumbling ominously, the shaky armor lurched to a halt, then opened, allowing the near-protoplasmic Cape to slide free and pinwheel across the floor to take his seat, wincing as his burns chafed on the fake leather.
Gregor's eyes darted back and forth until he confirmed that he was safe… for now. Taking a deep breath, he jabbed one pseudopod into the controls for his chair, sending the heavily modified office chair rolling along smoothed surfaces. "A trap, I should have expected. Was it real, his offer?" He shook his head. "No, no. No speculating. Madness lies down that path."
It had been a good offer, too. Gregor had been approached by a group of armed men, several weeks past, asking if he might be interested in steady employment. Gregor had been interested, and had allowed the men to arrange a meeting with their superior. It hadn't been difficult to discern who the men were working for; there weren't many with Tinkertech rifles in such number. He'd not been surprised when the man he met with introduced himself as Coil.
At first, the deal seemed promising. Coil wanted Trainwreck to go on retainer, maybe hire himself out to another group and report back to him. Trainwreck would get money, access to some of Coil's resources, and a place in the man's organization, in return for spying.
Trainwreck had been interested but not invested, but then Coil offered another bargaining chip. He offered to use his contacts to try and find Trainwreck's past. Told him he had promising lines of information, that he might even be able to get Trainwreck's name.
"Pfeh. Already have my name, and a glimpse. Such power, such knowledge. Why would he need me?" Gregor muttered. "He was lying, or he had no real need of me. A pawn, not an ally."
Gregor's refusal of this last point had seemed to shock Coil. He'd seemed to agree with the refusal, and had walked out- only to let in men with rifles, to silence Trainwreck.
They weren't expecting vented steam. Weren't expecting that trick Heraldry had given him, the sweeping rush which had knocked them aside, moving through rather than into. He'd managed to get free, fight his way past the mercenaries. But in the process, his nicest suit was trashed.
Gregor scowled as he shoved his best gear into a knapsack. He had to go, had to leave. Coil's men had managed to neutralize one suit fast, and it was painfully obvious that the Snake wouldn't let him live for long. He was too distinct, he stood out too much… Where could he hide?
Unbidden, his memory flashed to the one time he'd followed Heraldry through the docks, to see her vanish between a pair of upright pillars. The old machine shop was empty, he'd checked. But the girl still vanished between one step and the next. A pocket dimension.
Gregor wheeled himself over to his terminal again, cursing softly as one of his cameras scanned over a discreet man carrying a high-tech pistol. "I will owe her much for this." He muttered, but… well. Better than the alternative.
Gregor's tentacle tapped one of only two numbers he had keyed into his phone. After a few rings, an unfamiliar voice answered. "Ah, Gregor?"
"Who is this? I must speak with Heraldry. At once." He found himself barking.
"Hang on, let me put her on." The voice… sounded similar to the girl's. A sister, maybe?
Seconds later, the familiar voice of his neighbor (friend?) came over the line. "Gregor, what's wrong?"
"Issue I am having. I made a mistake, rejected an offer from Coil." Gregor explained tersely, watching over the cameras as the man pulled out a cell phone. "Attempted to silence me, likely know the location of workshop. I will-"
"Stay there, Gregor. I'll be right over." Heraldry's voice seemed to change, deepening and warping into something not recognizably female. Or perhaps, not quite human. "Are you injured? How many are there?"
Gregor nodded, looking through his cameras. "Three teams, five men in each. They are flanking the warehouse as we speak. And I am… mostly fine."
"...right. Hold out as long as you can."
Gregor nodded, even as the line went dead. He whirled his rolling chair back across the floor, smiling softly as he came to a halt before his current prototype armor. Unlike his bulky, oversized armor suit, this one was built a little differently. Heraldry's advice had pushed him to rebuild this suit; he supposed it was time for a field test.
"Size matters… but more may not be better." He chuckled, slipping into the armor and letting the clamshell drop into place. As he began to work the armor through its paces, he grinned. "Let's see if they can deal with a smaller target."
As he snagged his custom steam rifle from the rack, the man inside the armor felt his smile grow. "A better suit, and backup on the way. Truly, having allies is a wondrous thing…"
--[0]--
Lisa Wilbourn, once known as Sarah Livsey, and occasionally known as Tattletale, groaned as she heard her phone ring. There was only one person she used the standard ringtone for, and considering her current headache, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to her boss. Reaching out with one hand, she grabbed hold of the cell phone beside her, flipping it open and bringing it to her ear while keeping the ice pack balanced on her forehead. "Hey boss, whassup?" She groaned out.
"Tattletale. I've recently suffered a setback." Coil's voice came out of the phone in its normal monotone, but Lisa's eyes shot open as the words registered. Angry, covering fear. Uncertain.
"Really? What happened?" Lisa sat up, snagging her laptop with one hand as she pressed the phone between her shoulder and head, the other groping for a rarely-touched bottle of tinker-made painkillers. Using these, no matter how addictive, might be worth it. "I didn't know you were running any ops today."
"It should have been a milk run." Coil's response was terse. "I was aiming to recruit a new agent, perhaps a teammate if Hellhound didn't work out. He responded well to my early overtures, only to reject my final offer." He paused as Tattletale upended a pill into her mouth and booted up her laptop. "I want to know why." Confused, angry at you yet not you. Hates being confused, hates information gaps, believed this a sure bet. Received assurances from other sources. Other sources included thinkers. Other source was you.
Lisa bit her lip as she considered her power's revelation. "I'm going to need more info than that." Lisa responded, quietly bringing up her speculation document. "Who was it, what was the offer?"
"Trainwreck." Monster Cape, slumming, new arrival in Trainyards. "I offered him money, a support network when his job was complete, and information about his past."
Lisa whistled at the last line. "Kinda cruel with that last one, boss. No one knows where Case 53's come from."
"...no, they don't. But he shouldn't have known the false documents I'd drawn up were false." Pause too long. Does know where Case 53's originate from, or has info therein. Would not share. Would not even pretend to look. Scared of source. Lisa gulped as those lines soaked in, even as an email popped up on screen. Coil continued. "Listen to the recordings. If there's a leak, it needs to be patched."
Lisa let her newest Coil facts percolate as she listened to the conversation between Coil (Body double) and Trainwreck. As she listened to Trainwreck's rejection, she flinched. Conflict between information he knew to be true and Coil's lie. "There wasn't a direct leak, boss. He already knew his name, and knew your 'leads' were fake."
Long pause, running through options. Very nervous. "Can you confirm that?"
"With a bit of work, maybe." Lisa replied. "Not sure where I'd start, though."
"Don't." Coil's response was clipped. "Focusing on managing the Undersiders for now. Let them know that if the opportunity comes to kill or capture Trainwreck in the next week, you should take it."
Lisa swallowed again. Trainwreck's knowledge is dangerous to long-term plans. Needs to dispose of him before he can share what Coil plans. Will dispose of you as soon as possible. "Brian might push back against that. Killing another cape would bring heat on us."
"Let all your teammates know that there's a 250 thousand dollar bounty on whomever makes the kill, so long as it happens before he runs his mouth." Knows Bitch won't hesitate for that amount of money. Knows it will give Brian and Alec second thoughts. Doesn't care about long-term team cohesion. "Also let them know I will be spreading this job to other parties."
"Understood." Lisa paused as a second directive showed up in her inbox. "What's this?"
"The one who helped bail Trainwreck out." Coil's response was clipped. "It could be a coincidence, he's been running around the Trainyards for some time. But I need you to monitor Heraldry closely. I want a preliminary dossier submitted in three days."
"Gotcha." Lisa ignored the abrupt end to the call, studying the picture before her closely. "So this is the guy who took down Shadow Stalker…" She murmured. "Hmm. Now, what are you hiding?"
--[0]--
For most of Brockton Bay, the Medhall Building was one of the few places in the city where people found some hope for the future. An old-money pharmaceutical company employing thousands of people, Medhall was a cornerstone of the city's economy. Its CEO was a regular participant in charity events across the city, a man with links to City Hall and European backers.
Max Anders himself saw himself as a businessman in both roles he played. He dealt drugs in both personas, dealt with problems in both personas, and serviced clients in both personas.
...and did paperwork for both personas.
Grumbling under his breath, Max hastily scrawled a messy Kaiser on the bottom of an E88 directive. "Finally." Looking up from his desk, he slammed one finger home on his intercom's button. "James, come on in. I know you have news."
A few minutes later, the stocky build of Max's right hand man entered the room. "Max, is there anything we need to lead with?"
Max shook his head. "Nothing except the take." He leaned forward, tapping a piece of tinkertech, nodding as it failed to sense any bugs. "Start with Shadow Stalker. What happened with her, and why shouldn't we be using her as a recruiting tool?"
Krieg shook his head. "Sophia Hess was backed by the school authorities, white or black, and she had white friends. Worse yet, none of our young guns in Winslow ever intervened to stop her actions, or even mark her for reprisals outside of school." He snorted. "In short? We can use her as dirt on the PRT, but we can't use her for more general recruiting purposes. The narrative breaks down too fast."
"That's not stopped us before."
"It has when the PRT admits they screwed up, then pours out a tide of scum as scapegoats." James rubbed his hands. "It's more of a failure of the school system than anything else. Winslow is a shithole, and someone was embezzling funds. Not exactly good propaganda when it was a white woman causing the mess."
"Right." Max shook his head. "Fine. PRT response?"
"Mostly unchanged. Apparently losing Stalker will reduce the Wards' presence for a while, but otherwise their patrol and rotation schedules are static."
"Other gangs?"
"The ABB hasn't made any major moves in the last few days, and that seems unlikely to change. Coil is still laying low, the Undersiders haven't made a hit in a few days, and Faultline's crew only recently returned to the Palanquin." He paused. "The Merchants are stirred up, though. Heraldry, the new cape, has been making big moves through their territory, and beat down a dozen of their competent leg-breakers the same night he captured Stalker. That, combined with Trainwreck's greater activity, has gotten Skidmark upset."
"What's he doing?"
"He's started demanding his men patrol, saying he wants to catch the people intruding on 'his' turf." James shrugged. "He'll lose interest in a few days. We just need to be careful; Squealer's joined in with her latest monstrosity."
"Anything else?" At James' head shake, Max inclined his head towards a nearby couch. "Sit down. We've got some more to go over, but we can take our time."
"Yessir."
